Margaret Jarek


mjarek Monday August 6, 2018

Saunter 512
Summer leaps like an emerald fire across the open meadows and over the hills until the whole world is engulfed in its viridian glow.

In shades of jade and malachite the life giving flood of chlorophyll flows across the landscape for as far as the eye can see. Through moss covered glens the small brooks go meandering between banks blanketed with forget me-nots and fringed with buttercups. In these forgotten places far off the beaten path the stillness is deep, accentuated only by the murmur soliloquy of the summer wind as it passes through the green canopy overhead.

These days deep in the heart of summer are not the time to be rushing about. Summer is intended to be a time for sauntering leisurely along the dusty lanes pausing often to smell the wild flowers and learn the lyrics to the song of the summer wind. We would do ourselves a great favor if we mastered the skill of emulating the life enhancing rhythms of nature.

Moving at the speed of life would be fine but we’re more inclined to attempt to move at the speed of light. In fact I think our society is addicted to speed. Nature herself never rushes. For her there is a time for everything and everything at its appropriate time. Rushing has never been a efficient use of time. We pay dearly in both mental and physical health for our need for speed. Like nature herself we are far more creative when we embrace the elongated flow of time by living fully present in the moment.

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